


when you should love me

by kygsinterlude



Category: Monsta X (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alcohol is in there as well, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Finally!!!, Five Stages of Grief, Grief/Mourning, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Tagging, If they think something can put them apart think again you useless gay, M/M, Min Yoongi | Suga is Bad at Feelings, Poorly written but I guess the entire fic is, Recreational Drug Use, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Yoongi is the useless gay, there is sex now btw, thought i'd warn you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:14:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22276168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kygsinterlude/pseuds/kygsinterlude
Summary: Kihyun and Yoongi’s friend is gone. They were both in love with him.They are also soulmates, but they don’t know it.They lose themselves in their grief until destiny brings them both back together.
Relationships: Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Lee Minhyuk, Min Yoongi | Suga/Yoo Kihyun, Past Min Yoongi | Suga/Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Past Yoo Kihyun/Jung Hoseok | J-Hope
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so! This is my first english fic in like, years, and while I consider myself a decent writer, something happened in the english part of my brain and it sucks. My writing sucks now. But I managed to be at least satisfied with this! Please forgive me.  
> Things to take notice:  
> 1) I've been wanting to write for this ship since ever I feel like Yoonki tied me up to a chair and have brainwashed me into being hard-wired to them and I have nothing to complain  
> 2) Hoseok/Minhyuk wasn't even recognized by the tagging system but I like to make this hard for myself and I like the idea of these two hyper suns together  
> 3) I HAVE NOT been through such an intense process of grief since I grew to understand the world as it is. THEREFORE I had to dumbly research my way around. I'm so sorry if this isn't accurate, it's because author doesn't know what she's doing, but this idea had been with me since ever and honestly the grief part is the only thing that survived after so many twisting of it into a decent fic.  
> 4) I'm so sorry Hobi I love you stream Hope World

Those suits felt like tight skin.

Honestly, both of them felt like staying more. Like staying all through the three days Hoseok’s family determined, sharing their grief; a single day didn’t feel like enough for all that sorrow, that void, that depression. The emptiness that ensued once they heard the news.

They felt like rushing in when they heard the news. It should be a lie, a mistake, not him, not Jung Hoseok. The sun was meant to burn itself away, but not for billions of years yet. But there he was, _their_ sun’s picture, their sun’s family, their sun’s mother weeping, the flower wreaths, the black clothes.

They felt like rushing in, Yoongi and his old mockup Fear of God shirt, Kihyun in his sweaters, both in shock, both doubtful, both asking where is he, Hoseok, that isn’t funny, but they were just friends, and for as close as friends are, there should not be that much pain. That despair was unfitting in Hoseok’s family’s eyes.

And unfitting for how much his family despised them, in a way.

So they decided to go in their black suits, which they knew better than any that Hoseok would’ve hated. They bowed, to which Hoseok would bow back in respect, but then laugh and hug both of them saying there was no need for formality between them.They bowed to the family, and felt the mom’s burning wet eyes on their backs, and looked at the beautiful, model-like boy they didn’t recognize, and knew it was him, seeing his wet eyes and broken energy.

And they left once 24 hours passed, because neither Kihyun or Yoongi could stand the judgement any longer. They tried, they wanted to stay. They wished they could go to the crematorium, following Hoseok that one last time. But his mother was a strong, opposing force. It felt like she pushed them away with her mere presence.

None of them wanted to cause a problem, anyway. Hoseok deserved some peace, and they wouldn’t be the ones to ruin it.

“Come to my home” Yoongi said, both of them taking too slow, too weak, too sad steps to the bus stop. Kihyun looked at him.

“Don’t wanna grieve alone?” Yoongi smiled weakly. “I was thinking of asking you that. Not really trusting you to be alone after…”

Those words were unpronounceable. Erroneous. A disturbance, a reality they avoided to face yet, until both of them had no choice, until they sent a message to Hoseok out of habit and then realized no answer was to come.

“Yeah, I don’t trust myself either. Come to my home” He repeated, weaker, sadder. His hand wanted to reach out for a hand that would no longer be there. His hand wanted to reach out to the hand that was left, less familiar but still known enough. His hand did none.

They found the bus stop and both of them sat. Yoongi looked at Kihyun, silent Kihyun that was trying hard not to cry yet because he couldn’t, couldn’t because society would frown upon that and Kihyun cared too much to cry while unveiled, but society would’ve frowned upon the way they loved the man that was now gone, and yet they did, Kihyun and Yoongi loved him until the day if their own death, Yoongi and Kihyun both loved a man that never really belonged to any of them.

And society never knew.

(It is one thing for two men to be soulmates, and yet, to everyone, it seemed to be another that a man could love another man out of their own passion and heart’s desires, without being tied together by greater, invisible hands.)

And Yoongi looked at silent Kihyun with red eyes and a taut jaw, breathing in such a slow yet strong pace, every muscle focusing on stopping his eyes from spilling feelings. And, as much as Yoongi loved Hoseok, he also loved Kihyun, with a different color and shape and feel, but he did.

Hoseok was a man he wanted to kiss and Kihyun was a man he wanted to have long late night conversations with, and he loved both of them, just not in the same way.

But his love meant he cared, so he hugged Kihyun’s back and pretended not to see when he pushed his face against Yoongi’s shoulder and made it wet. The bus arrived and he guided Kihyun to the place where all those tears could fall unshielded and unhidden.

* * *

At their home, the impact came in slow waves, respectfully waiting for the two men to shed away the fake skin worn for that tamed grieving. The black fell out, Kihyun pulling away the tie and folding it, having all of a ritual to take those out with some self-control (or to pretend he had self-control), and Yoongi almost ripping everything away in seek of comfort and some breathing room.

The skin-color patch on Yoongi’s back kept his mark hidden from Kihyun’s eyes. He didn’t ask; Yoongi used to hide it before that night because his mark was something intimate and for his soulmate’s eyes only, and he kept hiding it after that night, but now because he didn’t want _anyone_ to see it, not even his soulmate.

Especially _not_ his soulmate.

So it was easy to look at other lines of his back, and admire them first; there was no mark to analyse, after all. Kihyun traveled his eyes all through that pale skin, following the soft slopes and dips of muscles moving in groups, until it sunk under the trousers’ waistband, and it was pretty. Yoongi was pretty.

Maybe, in a world where Hoseok had never been, Yoongi would have been his love.

They finished undressing and changing into two of millions of loose, simple shirts Yoongi had, and then they laid down on the messy bed, shirts and boxers only, and they looked at the ceiling, all in silence, minds roaming with all the noise the outside lacked.

And suddenly it was all too familiar, too close to another night, one with the smell of weed and messy, foggy minds, the feeling of thrown clothes and blankets on the bed they rested, and the strange way they really fit against each other and the strange way it felt better than anything else, anyone else, even Hoseok, and the strange way their eyes kept going back to each other and the strangest of all, how their lips fit well, and how it was good to make them fit against each other.

They stood in silence, few tears falling away. It felt easier than expected. Yoongi expected Kihyun to lash out and cry rivers, cry his heart out, undo himself and fall apart, he had been ready to hold him when he fell. Kihyun expected Yoongi to throw things, his shirts against the wall, the suit on the bed, himself on the bed, he expected Yoongi to punch, to yell, to break, and he was ready to take the hit.

It was not time for anger yet. They didn’t really want to cry and throw a tantrum, because once they did, that urn with Hoseok’s ashes would be the undeniable, unescapable reality, the silence on his house, the unread messages, the calm nights, the empty space on the sidewalk, the darker days without a sun to shine light on them. Kihyun would have no more hope of kissing him again and Yoongi would have no more lines drawn on Hoseok’s back to hate.

“It feels like nothing changed yet.” Kihyun tried whispering, and it felt so weak on his throat and yet so loud on the silence.

“Yeah.” Yoongi closed his eyes shut with strength, lights dancing on his eyelids. When he opened them again, the black inside the room was ready to greet him. “Feels like I can text him.”

“Please don’t.”

“I won’t.”

“Thank you. Let’s…” Kihyun shuffled on his side. His hand found Yoongi’s other one, and at last it was filled with someone else’s hand. At last, it was not empty anymore, and it felt right, and Yoongi hated it felt right when he had wanted it to feel that right with Hoseok’s. His fingers tightened on Kihyun’s. “Let’s buy ourselves time, yeah?”

“Yeah. Wanna sleep? We haven’t eaten since the funeral but I don’t really...”

“Me neither. Let’s sleep.”

Grief could wait, as they fell asleep and asked themselves what kind of world would it be when they woke up.


	2. anger

As it turns out, the world didn’t freeze to death while they slept. Their inner world has, the world kept inside each of their rooms. The sun had died. But outside, the literal sun was alive and kicking strong, sending its dislocated warmth down to the Earth, giving plants energy and humans heat.

Just not enough to melt away the sadness freezing those men’s hearts.

They woke up in silence, eyes meeting and an unknown agreement to not speak, to not disturb yet the sleeping realm they feel into; if that hidden world woke up and shook them away, Kihyun and Yoongi would fall back into the hard, cold reality that Hoseok was no longer there to hold them when they fell.

So they left the bed, and went down to find themselves something to eat. It was nearly noon, depression and pain keeping them under peaceful slumber for longer so they could delay the pain, and it still wasn’t enough, but it could not last forever, or it would be as good as death. So they made themselves noodles and ate in silence, wakefulness catching up and making them feel the need to talk, to externalize, but not yet, the world still sleeps and reality has not hit yet.

So they finished their meal and went back upstairs, Yoongi’s hand still empty and Kihyun’s eyes dry for now. And, as they sat and laid back onto the messy bed, they knew their silent, makeshift world was starting to fall apart. Consciousness of the past day had come back and it was making it impossible to pretend.

So it was either let themselves fall from that black fabric that suspended them from the truth, or to jump voluntarily.

“Hoseok is dead.” Yoongi was the one to leap first, and Kihyun still hit the ground before him.

His sob broke through his chest in a ragged breath, shaking away his body and waking up the pain. He had seen his phone, screen shining with missed calls from his dad, and none from Hoseok.

Because he would never call again.

And then Yoongi's phrase hit him.

“Hoseok is dead.” He echoed, and it all broke loose.

Kihyun cried first, and he really felt a lot, he always felt a lot, he had the bad habit of trying to manage a river of emotions with a dropper. So the river broke his dam and he balled against Yoongi and he cried, he yelled, he pulled at his shirt (and it didn’t matter, it had been pulled on before) and called for Hoseok and cursed Hoseok for leaving them like that, and then he felt bad for cursing at the dead, but then the realization — Hoseok was dead — came down on both of them and the cycle restarted, with Yoongi’s silent tears and way too strong hands against his waist to match Kihyun’s frantic despair.

Dimorphous expression is a method used by the human brain to process positive stimuli through using negative reactions, usually wanting to squeeze a cute puppy to death. But, to them, it was shifting the oceans of pain inside them into small chunks of anger they could cry, scream and vent away, until all pain had been processed, because if it all came out at once, they might not take it.

They didn’t want to accept, but it had happened already, no input from them would change it. They could only face it: Hoseok was dead, Hoseok had left, Hoseok would not come into Yoongi’s room and ask why they were crying, and he would not make them laugh again, and they would not hang out and Kihyun and Yoongi should not still be in love, and they would not look at each other and declare a small war to see who would date Hoseok first.

(In that war, they both lost.)

Hoseok was dead, and to deal with his absence hurt so much it angered them.

It angered them that Hoseok died, and also that none of them were the one, the one Hoseok loved like  _ that _ , or the one with matching lines gracefully curving on the knot of his spine near the base of his neck. It angered them that they could not kiss him anymore, and even if they could, their lips wouldn't fit, because it was not meant for them, because he didn’t want it. 

It angered them that they spent so much time “fighting” over someone that they were never meant to be with, in Yoongi’s perspective, and that didn’t want to be with him, in Kihyun’s perspective. Because Yoongi craves for his soulmate, and Kihyun doesn’t really care, he’s just waiting. If it was Hoseok, great, all the better; if it wasn’t, that didn’t change his love.

They both think back to beautiful model guy, with his young face and cute beauty marks and unique features and it was easy to see why Hoseok would fall in love with him in first place, and then they hate him for being perfect for Hoseok.

And they hated more and more, they had more and more anger, and it burned away at them as it dissolved part of the pain.

“I feel bad for having something to be grateful, at least.” Yoongi whispered into the darkness hours later; curtains drawn shut to block away the sun, their strength to open the window never there since the past day. Kihyun stirred on his side, indicating he was at least still conscious.

“What do you mean?” Yoongi’s hand was resting on Kihyun’s back and it felt good there, under his shirt, warm and fitting, like it was made to be there.

“At least I’m not his soulmate.”

And neither was Kihyun.

They laughed together, weakly, and as bad as it sounded, because model boy  _ was _ , and now he had to live with his soulmate being gone, never had it been better for the universe to ignore their prayers.

And never had it felt better to know someone they had resented is having a hard time.

* * *

The way Hoseok, Yoongi and Kihyun met defined the way they behaved towards each other.

Hoseok was the one to introduce himself to the other two; Hoseok was the driving force between it all, the gravity that pulled them close and absorbed them onto him; a hurricane of light, he attracted them and made them want to stay with bright smiles and a brighter personality, that bouncy energy and just a charisma one would never match. Hoseok was unique, and soon they craved him. Like plants need the sun to grow.

So, as natural (since everything Hoseok asked of them, they complied), one day he made their worlds clash.

Kihyun had been sitting down, writing his paper due next Monday when his phone bipped with a new message.

_ hey come down we’re waiting for you _

It was Hoseok, and Kihyun looked at his paper, and he wasn’t one fifth through the thing. But then he thought of Hoseok, and screw it, he could deal with a small blow to his grade. He’d finish it later, he could do it.

_ who’s we. also, honorifics. _

Kihyun was trying to change into his best clothes (fake-natural, fake-effortless, fake-i-wasn’t-dressing-for-you) as fast as he could when four bips came.

_ a friend _

_ cmon i been wanting to introduce u two since ever _

_ icb you’ll be the hardest 1 to convince he’s such a whiny bish. _

_ but he’s cool pls pls pls come down _

As if Hoseok would ever have to beg for  _ anything _ out of Kihyun. As if Kihyun wouldn’t give him his last breath if Hoseok ever asked to.

_ ok but i’m leaving my homework alone for this. _

His answer made him smile.

_ u r so smart pls fuck off _

He came down as silent as possible, not to disturb his father, and found Hoseok’s car parked across the street (he got the memo the first time: angry, wary dad, please be careful and quiet) with him and another guy resting against it. Hoseok seemed to shine even in the night’s dim light, and the guy just seemed annoyed. 

_ Smaller than Hobi _ , Kihyun thought, and maybe he had a shot? Maybe he would be taller.

“Hello, smart pants” He laughed and pulled Kihyun into a hug the second he was within arms reach, and Kihyun could not complain as he hugged back, that was the best place in the world. “This is my friend, Yoongi. You two are the same age. Yoongi, this is Kihyun.”

“You really lack respect with all your hyungs, don’t you. Nice to meet you.” The guy said, kind of under his breath, hoarse voice and  _ wow _ it was just what made Kihyun’s spine tingle in that way. Had Hoseok not made him fall first, oh well. Yoongi just bowed his head, still not standing upright.

“Does he? Thought he only hated me.” A small smile curved its way on that pale face, and Hoseok rolled his eyes.

“As if I could ever, you two are my favorite hyungs.” He unlocked the door and signed towards the car with his head, telling them to go in.

“Of course, we are your only hyungs.” And they went inside the car.

(As if Hoseok even had to ask.)

* * *

Hoseok lived on his own, a small apartment in downtown because it was closer to college and his parents were rich bitches that spoiled their son, blissfully unaware of his gayness and liberalism. As soon as they got in, he went for the kitchen.

Yoongi and Kihyun weren’t really comfortable with each other for obvious reasons, so Kihyun decided to go with Hoseok to the kitchen, both wishing to stay closer to Hoseok and hoping Yoongi wouldn’t come; he didn’t realize that Yoongi had the same intentions, but was slower to act, and so was relegated to throwing himself on the couch and wait.

“I felt lonely, decided to grab you two, my favorite companions” He took three bottles of soju, no glasses, handed one to Kihyun and beelined to Yoongi and the couch, handing him the other one. “Until I realized you did not know each other yet, and then I was even more sure I had to get you and make you know each other. Like, you two are literally the same person. How can you two not know each other? It should be a crime or something.”

“Hobi, what time is it?” Yoongi asked, fake nonchalance on his voice, and Kihyun felt something inside him turn and twist at the sound of the nickname.

Not that he was the only one to call him that. But still.

“Uh, 11:30?”

“Why are you so loud.” Hoseok laughed loudly, on that true Hoseok fashion, and Kihyun just smirked while sipping his soju and Yoongi cracked his one open, sitting up straight to drink. “Also, there can be none like me. Come on, he’s on college, he’s already one step ahead.”

“One step further into despair, you mean.” And he got those lips to smile again. “Really, not that great.”

“Shut the fuck up, you breath and then your grades shoot up to, like, A. I hate you.” He threw himself onto the couch and pulled Kihyun to sit down, too. The couch was too small for three, their bodies pressing against each other, warm. Hot. Good. “Come on. You two play piano, you two are small, you two are…”

“Fuck off, just because you’re tall you think you get away with throwing this shit at me.” Kihyun slapped Hoseok’s thigh, and Yoongi pushed him away.

“He really should get some shit for acting up to us, don’t you think?”

“I should throw you on that fancy pool down there.” 

“Oh, the way you two love me.” He laughed and jumped up. “I’m dancing, who’s coming?”

“The way you’re drinking? 20 minutes from now and you’ll be shutting down on that corner.” Yoongi pointed.

“Let me enjoy my high while I can.” He put on some random playlist and started dancing his way off the apartment. “Come on, Kihyun hyung.”

“You only call me hyung to persuade me, fuck you.” And yet, he stood, taking one long gulp from the bottle, dizziness hitting, bravado too. He looked at Yoongi, at his sly smile, small and sharp eyes analyzing them. “You’ll make me embarrass myself in front of my supposed clone.”

“Can you dance? If you can, we are not the same.”

“I can’t dance to save my life…” The beat came and Hoseok pulled Kihyun flush against himself, hips pressing, Kihyun losing it all on that instant, one hand taking his waist to guide him.

“Yeah, you will now.” And then another type of high came. Not the one from alcohol, but the one of being so close to your crush, to your love, and being able to just enjoy, to laugh, to feel him and let himself be felt. Yoongi just looked for two songs, until he stood up and called their friend, breaking Kihyun and Hoseok’s spell.

“Come on. Dance with me too.”

And what should have turned into a competition for his attention dissolved into them dancing all with each other, his aura never allowing any type of animosity between them, wrapping them into that light energy, into that soft breeze and relaxation, that feeling of having no worries at all, because there was nothing to worry about with Hoseok. Because Hoseok could enrapture them in such a way. Because they would do anything for Hoseok.

Even dance with each other, Hobi enticing them, teasing them, pushing them, and it felt somewhat good, a new kind of good, to dance together and feel that warmth, how their own teasing was fun until it felt too hot, too much, too unwanted — they weren’t Hobi.

“Damn, when will I ever fulfill my  _ voyeur  _ dream.” He threw himself into the bean bag, already shutting down as Yoongi predicted, empty glass on his hand. “You two are so stupid…”

“Yeah, we are, drunk face. Come on, let me put you to bed.” Yoongi said, eager to touch him and break away from the weird dizziness being so close to that guy caused. Hoseok pushed him away.

“I can take care of myself, go talk to him. You two are so weird with each other, I can’t bear it.” Slowly, and tumbling a bit, he stood up. “Don’t leave my house until you become besties.”

“ _ Besties _ , Hobi.” Kihyun mocked. “Who even says that?”

“I just did, hyung. Be back in a few.” And he dragged himself to the bathroom, the other two watching.

As soon as the door clicked, Yoongi turned to look at him. Eyeing him from head to toe.

“You like him too, don’t you.”

One thing to note about Yoongi: he didn’t beat around the goddamn bush.

“Yeah, and I noticed you too.” (Because Kihyun wasn’t dumb or blind.) “Let’s not try to sabotage each other, I guess? He’ll love whoever he loves.” Yoongi shrugged.

“Don’t worry, I’m not an asshole. But…” His hand raised up and rubbed at the back of his neck. “He really is enchanting, isn’t he?”

And that was a different smile from any other Yoongi gave that night, even the ones directed at Jung Hoseok. That was soft, caring, sweet. Transcendental of any reasoning, pure emotion.

“He is.” And Yoongi looked pretty smiling like that. Kihyun loved Hoseok, but, as said, he isn’t blind. He noticed cute boys.

“Ah, one thing, and if we agree then I’m letting Hoseok think we’re clones or some shit.” Kihyun nodded, waiting for the question. “Soulmates. Opinion.”

Then, Kihyun realized the rubbing the back of his neck thing wasn’t a simple pacifier gesture for Yoongi.

“I don’t really think it’s much. Not fond of it.” Yoongi nodded and looked back at the door.

“Yeah, we’re not the same.” And his fond smile came back, and Kihyun felt so weird and dislocated having confessed that to Yoongi. Why, though? Yoongi was no different than other strangers he had already confessed that to.

The sound of Hoseok throwing up came back, and they ran to help him.

(Later, they all fell asleep together, bundled on Hoseok’s twin bed, hands and legs tangled. Yoongi was the first one to wake up, Hobi between him and Kihyun.

And, for as much as he loved Hoseok and was sure of it, Kihyun really looked pretty asleep.)

* * *

“Kihyun.”

“Yes.”

“I’m thinking of covering my soulmate mark.”

Anger had not burned away inside Yoongi, yet. Because he couldn’t stop thinking of Hoseok. He couldn’t stop thinking how those goddamn lines didn’t match and yet Hoseok was the best man he ever met, how those lines didn’t match but those lines were wrong, how Hoseok smiled and it made everything better, how Hoseok sometimes got closer to Yoongi and every single time he inched closer to Heaven.

And how it all fell apart on that night.

Yoongi hoped Kihyun would support him; he was the one to not care about soulmate marks. He was the one who flirted with guys and kissed guys and dated guys with clear unmatching marks because “loving them is enough”. He was the one to only wait and not look for.

However, he nearly broke himself in half sitting up and turning on the bed to stand opposite to Yoongi, facing him. Shock on his face and anger on his eyes.

“Why would you do it?”

He also sat, somewhat taken aback by Kihyun’s reaction. Yoongi rubbed at the knot of his spine. It was a gesture he had for so long, something to comfort himself. 

“I just. It’s out of anger, I guess. But I’ve been looking for so long, and I found Hobi, and he was perfect and it wasn’t even him, so who the fuck would it be? And all I know is that I’m not interested, I want  _ out _ , and I don’t want this mark anymore.”

“Yoongi, fucking, just, Yoongi.” Kihyun rubbed his own face. Whatever peace he had found fractured under the pressure of getting Yoongi to stop being stupid, because he knew that was just anger-led stupidity, but how did he tell Mr. Problems With Anger Management he was having, as usual, a problem managing his anger? “You’re angry.”

“I know.”

“Don’t be a kid because of it.” Yoongi looked at him. “You know, we’ve been through this, I told you… Whoever it is, it’ll be so much better than…”

He laughed. Cackled. It had despise into it. Yoongi’s anger was turning into more stupidity, but also in poison, and it was going to burn Kihyun’s fingertips.

“Did you even know him?” He sat up. “Hoseok managed to give me life. I loved him beyond anything else. I don’t care if he was the wrong answer, he was the one I wanted. The more I think of him, the more I’m trying to think straight but I can’t, it just feels  _ too much _ , this fucking pain, and I’d rather lose anyone but him, I could deal with anyone dead but him, and now-”

“You could deal with losing me?” Kihyun cut him off.

Silence fell heavy as the sky on their shoulders as Yoongi’s head shot to the side, finding an angry, hurt Kihyun looking at him.

“If you had a choice, you would rather lose me?” Why did it hurt.

Everything hurt.

But why did it hurt? Kihyun could choose the same. Maybe, if he could, he’d choose the same, wouldn’t he? Trading anyone’s life for Hobi’s. His Hobi. He loved him too, just as much, just as painfully. Didn’t he.

“Don’t do this fucking shit. What he meant to me…”

“Don’t fucking play special” Kihyun sat up in a second, stripping off the shirt and jumping to his feet to take his clothes. His back faced Yoongi, but his voice shook too much for him to not be crying out of anger. “I loved him too.” Didn’t he. “He made me feel real and great and strong and special just for being with him, for being loved by him. Hoseok meant the world to me, he gave me what I never had on what should be my home. You’re not the only one hurting.”

“Kihyun, fucking shit, don’t do this…”

“This what?” Eyes bloodshot, shirt halfway done, anger distorting his sharp features, that poison burnt. “Feeling hurt because you wanna feel like you’re all alone on this? Because you’re being childish and trying to get rid of your mark when I know you’ll regret it once it’s done? Because you just made me feel like shit?”

“You  _ matter  _ to me.” Yoongi stood up, and that fight was ridiculous, they were just sad and mad and sensitive and they could not deal with grief alone for now, Yoongi could not— “Don’t throw a tantrum out of a fucking choice of words. Or is it the fucking mark? Is it this thing you swore you did not care-”

“Fucking  _ shit _ !  _ You _ do!” Kihyun yelled. “Don’t shift this to me! I’m not letting you fuck it up when you can’t even think straight! I’m not letting you fuck it up because you loved Hobi and he’s gone! I’m trying to be your friend!”

His gritted teeth made him angry. They got on Yoongi’s nerves.

“I don’t need a friend, I needed him! I needed his love!”

They were hurting, and when they hurt, they were childish, and when they hurt, they said idiot things.

“Fuck, Kihyun, I didn’t mean—”

Eyes bloodshot, shirt halfway done, anger hurting everything, Kihyun left Yoongi’s house.

( _ This didn’t make sense,  _ Kihyun thought on the bus on his way home, everything buzzing and clinking and roaring and hurting.  _ Our argument didn’t even make sense. Was it the mark? Was it Hobi? Was it his words? _

Kihyun knew that, actually, it was just a need to scream, to fight, to burn it out. It was a need to reaffirm their love for Hoseok, because they had always competed on that; it was a need to defend Yoongi from himself and his stupid impulses, because he wanted too much a soulmate to actually live in peace after he destroyed his mark; it was a need to vent, because even after tears and screams it didn’t stop hurting, it was a need to escape, because after the sun died, they were left without gravity and without a direction to follow.

It was, as well, a way to feel when their main reason to do so had died.)


	3. bargaining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hnnnng the title relates so LOOSELY to the chapter pls forgive me

Takes them two days to find their way back to each other.

Yoongi yelled, and broke, and drank, and slept, and mostly felt empty after the glass had been emptied and the shards were collected and the yells died out. Hoseok would’ve known what to say to make him give up on that stupid idea.

Well, Hoseok would’ve made him do anything. Even when he belonged to someone else, Yoongi would still follow him, even if it meant to keep to himself something that only hurt.

But Hoseok would never do anything again. Kihyun was the only one left from that time, and Yoongi managed to hurt him as well.

He managed to get everything he loved away from him, either that or he got away from them. Because old habits die hard and it was easy to make himself hurt by cutting nice things away. Because he wasn’t used to having them.

Because Yoongi was used to such a lack of love from anyone, even himself, having nice things like that warm feeling of love and belonging Hoseok gave him felt so complicated, yet so good, and when he lost it, he lost himself, and it was time to return to what was known and easy and safe: anger.

Self-hatred.

Cutting nice things away because he didn’t want them, because they were hard to maintain and easy to lose, because he didn’t deserve good anymore. That was a little bit of why he pushed Kihyun away, Kihyun who was trying to take care of him. Make him feel good.

Cutting nice things away was another reason to get the tattoo. Because his soulmate would be nice to him, would take care of him, would make him feel better and loved and worshipped and he, on that state of anger and self-hatred, didn’t  _ want  _ it. Didn’t want to deserve it, didn’t want to deserve a soulmate, didn’t want Kihyun to care, didn’t want a friend. The only thing able to reserve that state immediately was Hoseok.

And Hoseok was no longer there.

And anger burned Yoongi, and burned like fire, and like embers, but no fuel was infinite and eventually Yoongi was just tired, laying on his bed, emptier than before, and Yoongi was also emptier than before, the anger that once filled him consumed, and he was left looking at a tie that didn’t belong to him, caressing a space he could not fill, dreading the way that emptiness would seep into his heart and, like his hand the day before, crave someone no longer there to fill it.

*

Meanwhile, Kihyun was already empty.

He had already rid himself of anger by the time he got home. All and every single type of anger — of losing Hoseok, of Yoongi acting like an idiot, anticipate anger of his father who would only make everything worse. Kihyun was too empty and too frail to deal with that burning hot feeling anymore — so he just waited to arrive, and once he did he only went home.

Emptiness also meant numbness. That blow would not hurt as much as usual.

Kihyun opened the door; the living room was empty.

“Dad?” He called. “I’m home.”

“Hello,” came from the kitchen. “Home already?” (Kihyun had spent nearly two days away, and it was 10:44 PM.) 

Maybe it was not hate for Kihyun that the man felt, but a deep despise for his attitudes and, well, things that made him  _ Kihyun _ . In response, he only hummed as he walked through the room to grab a cup.

“Thought you’d be back earlier. Who were you with?”

“Yoongi.”

“Oh. So which one of you took advantage of the other’s fragility?” There it was. “Or was it another male you found?”

“I wasn’t  _ at  _ his house. I was at Hoseok’s place, helping his parents. They couldn’t deal with it yet, so I offered to sort his things out a bit.” That seemed to take him aback.

“Oh, well. Well done, kid.” They stood in silence, Kihyun sipping from his water and then standing to help in the kitchen, doing the dishes as his father prepared the dinner. “May God forgive him, your friend. May he rest in peace.”

Kihyun didn’t need to ask why, and he didn’t need it to know it applied to him as well.

Forgive them for sleeping with other men and being so depraved and dirty.

His father also thought Kihyun was influenced by Hoseok. And, maybe, now that Hoseok was dead, that Kihyun would go back to being straight, christian, a good deacon’s son and a regular worshipper.

His father was, no need to say it (but always good to think of), wrong.

*

They’d follow him anywhere, and they were following him to his home, soju bottles and snacks and neon lights and quick music spilling from the open doors of clubs and Hoseok’s smile and contagious laughter and his hands on theirs, and their lips brushing skin as they whispered on the back of the bus.

Yoongi and Kihyun sometimes had a slight epiphany of how weird they were with each other. They touched and whispered and laughed just like friends, but when one of them got a little something from their object of affection, they felt jealous and competitive, only for it to fade once the three came back into sync. It was only when Hoseok seemed to prefer one of them that the need to win him over took the boys, but once he shared himself equally again, the feeling stopped.

It felt strange, but it made sense every time Kihyun’s words came back to them.  _ He’ll love whoever he loves. _

Once they arrived at Hobi’s apartment, two soju bottles were empty and Kihyun was supporting himself onto him as Yoongi watched with one bottle on hand and jealousy on his tongue, rather than alcohol. But a side of him couldn’t stand and think of how cute they were, at the same time he wanted to be in Kihyun's place.

Once or twice he wondered if they couldn’t be on a polyamorous relationship, but that wasn’t really his thing. Also, Yoongi was already 99% sure he was Hoseok’s soulmate; there was no other explanation for how he made Yoongi’s entire world brighter, faster and more lively. He made Yoongi live a new life and it wouldn’t be fair for a third person to be inserted into it if they didn’t give him equal attention, which would be impossible. For Yoongi, there would be only Hoseok and no one else.

He craved for the day he saw his matching mark, but it should come on a special day.

And that was his consolation every time Kihyun’s and Hoseok’s lips were too close: one day, he would be the only man whose lips Hoseok would kiss.

“Come on, lay down.”

“Nooo, I don’t wanna let you go…”

“Lemme just grab my stash then! Today was stressful as shit on college.” He asked and Kihyun finally let go of his arms, eyes glowing while admiring him who was the sun and all the stars of his life. Then his eyes shifted to Yoongi.

He had something for Yoongi, too. While Hoseok was the sun, Yoongi was the moon; colder, more delicate, but still powerful and imposing in its own way. Hoseok’s influence was stronger, but Yoongi’s was unique onto him. He brought out something that not even Hobi could; a calmness, while Hoseok had only energy and maybe even peace, yeah, but. 

Yoongi  _ was  _ unique and, therefore, unexplainable.

The difference was that, while the Moon only reflects the light coming from the sun, Yoongi could very well glow on his own.

He reached out with his hand, calling Yoongi to join him on the bed, fingers opening and closing in an attempt of calling his attention.

“Yoon-giiiiii.” Kihyun was halfway drunk already, damn lightweight. “Come here. Come to me.”

His eyebrow raised and his eyes went to Hoseok, sitting on his desk and rolling up a joint. Kihyun shook his head, understanding the question made.

“I want you right now.”

“ _ Oooh. _ ” Hoseok laughed and raised his own eyebrows in an annoying way as Yoongi approached the bed. “Finally Kihyun worked up the courage.”

“Fuck you, Hobi.”

He left the bottle on the nightstand and laid down, eyes going from Kihyun’s face to his chest and open arms. He wished it to be Hoseok, but well, Kihyun  _ was  _ a very cherished friend, and it felt good to have those close moments as well.

Yoongi managed to be between the wall and Kihyun, so he moved towards Kihyun and he did so towards Yoongi, both pressing their bodies together and.

That was not expected, the way they fit so well together. It took nearly no management for them to find a comfortable position, and yet it felt good to move just a bit and feel how their bodies just fell in place naturally against the other, one leg slightly between the other man’s own and his hand on Kihyun’s waist, chest against his back and wow,  _ wow _ , the way he was warm and soft and—

Yoongi leaned forward and breathed in Kihyun’s scent, and maybe the smoke in the air was making him dizzy, but Kihyun smelled so good,  _ so good _ .

“Hey, lovebirds.” Hoseok extended his hand holding the joint to them. “Come on, try it.”

“It ain’t really my thing, Hobi.” But Kihyun was already grabbing the joint and pulling in the smoke, Yoongi observing as it was so foreign and out of character for Ki. But maybe it was because Hoseok was offering, and he’d go anywhere for Hoseok, and maybe Yoongi should too, as Hobi’s eyes sparkled and he smiled when Kihyun fell against Yoongi and blew out the smoke. Maybe he could do it, to make Hoseok smile at him like that. 

So he did, just a bit, more carefully than Kihyun, and Hoseok actually  _ laughed  _ and said it wouldn’t get Yoongi high and it was beautiful, his voice, it was warm and caressed his ears, and yeah, he loved Hoseok, he did, and they were soulmates.

But Kihyun felt so good.

He felt so warm and good, all giggly and small against Yoongi, pushing himself against him, and oh, how it felt, how good he felt, Yoongi was losing himself on that sensation, so he slid his hand under Kihyun’s shirt again to feel him, feel his skin, and how  _ good _ , how many times did he think that already, that Kihyun felt so good? His mind was looping and short-circuiting, and  _ oh, _ he squeezed Kihyun’s waist and he  _ moaned _ , and it was…

“Yoongi.” The voice from under him called, and he looked down, and Kihyun was looking at him with eyes that spoke of entire nights and secrets he wasn’t entirely privy to, it felt like the universes inside them were pulling through to clash and be together, and Yoongi couldn’t hold himself back when he wanted to kiss Kihyun that much, so he did.

Maybe he was dizzy because of the marijuana, maybe he was dizzy because of the alcohol, maybe being in Hoseok’s general vicinity gave him that pleasing feeling all the time and he just didn't notice, but kissing Kihyun made all those  _ so goods  _ feel like nothing near the fire that exploded, burning away and pushing him further against his mouth, and again, they fit so well, moving so easily, as if every move was known. His tongue slipped in at the right moment, exactly when Kihyun parted his lips, and they moaned together because it felt  _ right _ . Not just good or amazing or mind-numbing, toe-twisting kind of amazing; it was all those things and then some. Kihyun’s hands went straight into Yoongi’s lower back and to the knot of his spine, where his soulmate mark rested undercover, and Yoongi pulled Kihyun closer by his waist, pushing his thigh further between Kihyun’s own, and it felt  _ that  _ right. It felt right like the song on the radio said it did, it felt right like they were meant to be, it felt like what Yoongi expected soulmates to be like. And, while his sober mind would’ve repelled the feeling — there should be nothing like that — his slightly stoned, drunk mind only cared about the moans Kihyun made when his hand caressed the right places.

They eventually slowed and parted softly, eyes searching for one another under half-closed lids and red lights of Hoseok’s —  _ goddamnit, Hoseok  _ — room, and they could have just went back at it immediately, they could do that for the rest of the night. But they decided to take just one more sip of that soju and try out a bit more, test their limits, feel more of each other’s skin without kissing, just to have those moans and whimpers sound out as clear as they could, and Kihyun had a nice ass and shoulders and clavicles and Yoongi had such strong yet charming hands and thick thighs, and it felt _so fucking good_ when he guided Kihyun into riding one of them as he kissed his neck, and oh, they could go on forever like that, lazily making out and teasing, but they would not fuck, no, that was for—

“Damn, you two are so hot with each other.”

Hoseok’s voice broke through their sex spell, shattering their nice numbness like a stone breaking glass. They both looked at him as if they forgot he was even there, and Hoseok laughed.

“I’m sorry! Please go on.”

“Wanna join?” Kihyun murmured, and Yoongi kind of resented that. Which was weird, shouldn’t he want to have sex with his soulmate? Should he not take that perfect opportunity of finally being with the man he  _ knew  _ was his soulmate and his _i_ _ ncredibly sexy, incredibly hot  _ friend?

He was getting confused, maybe it was the weed, it should be the weed _and_ the alcohol, nothing should feel that good and he should crave for Hobi, and yet he couldn’t take his hand away from Kihyun’s skin. He bent down just to bite at Kihyun’s earlobe and get him to moan like  _ that _ .

“Of course not, you two are made for each other and I’m hungry. My thing is watching.” He cackled and stood up, joint between fingers in that ridiculously stylish manner. “I’m going down to get snacks and some condoms, be right back!”

And he left, not even giving them time to say anything, laughing to himself as if he told some great joke.

And Yoongi was  _ relieved _ .

“Did you really want him to join?” Yoongi asked, kind of afraid of his answer. What if Kihyun was only doing that to get Hoseok’s attention and arousal? Yoongi didn’t want it, at least not Hoseok's attention on Kihyun. Maybe he didn’t want their first time to have Kihyun tangled in between. (Was that it?)

Kihyun just looked back at him.

“No, I offered to be polite.” And that should have been weird too, because Kihyun was also in love with Hoseok and they knew it. “Isn’t it weird? I’m saying the truth, though. Right now, I don’t want him between us.”

“I know.” And he said nothing else, because they were tired of talking and not kissing, and they shifted in the bed for Yoongi to ride Kihyun while he kissed his neck, sucking marks on his skin, as if they were fucking.  


They still would not have sex, but it felt so good to tease. Mimic the act and tease each other, and kiss more when they got tired, just lazy kissing and groping and moaning, tongues lapping and tasting and nothing ever felt that good and enrapturing. 

It was how they fell asleep.

* * *

Exactly two days after the fight, as Kihyun was cleaning and tidying his room in an attempt to get his own head organized, his cellphone bipped.

It was almost automatic — grabbing it in a flash and hoping to see the  _ Hobi _ name, but no, it was Yoongi, and the truth hit him painfully before opening the message from someone still alive, who would still text him.

_ hey _

_ i’m so sorry about that fight. i was stupid and i know it _

_ i miss you _

Kihyun smiled, his chest hurting. Damn it, he also missed Yoongi, he missed him and missed Hoseok, he missed his best friends so much.

_ i miss you too _

_ wanna hang out? i mean _

_ how are you holding on is kinda of what i want to ask. _

He placed the cellphone down on the desk, trying to breathe and focus. He had not realized how deeply he missed Yoongi. And how deeper the absence of Hoseok felt.

_ Maybe if I had cherished him more… _

Those thoughts were a bit recurring now. He kept thinking, thinking of how he should have done this and that and then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much now because he would have lived plenty with Hoseok.  _ Maybe I should have never waited.  _ Would it be better to have had him on his arms? To have lost him as his boyfriend. Kihyun would never find out. Maybe, in another universe, maybe…

The answer came.

_ can’t say i’m fine _

_ been worse tho _

_ but i really wanna see you _

_ hobi would never write out and entire you he’d just. u _

They smiled together, and somehow they knew they did, even though one could not see the other.

_ he would _

_ i’m going to our place _

_ meet me there? _

Yoongi’s answer was ready even before the question.

_ in 20 _ .

Kihyun changed his clothes without even thinking, he could only think of seeing Yoongi. Those last two days had been so empty inside his home and his head, without Yoongi, and now they would be seeing each other and it felt like Kihyun could almost, almost breathe, almost at the surface, but not yet, and he knew once he did he would feel relieved like never before.

There was no reason to warn his father he’d be out; he had 20 minutes and he was running.

* * *

There had been fear when they woke up on Hoseok’s bed, no Hoseok in sight, still hugging each other and limbs locked in seemingly impossible ways.

It still felt good, which meant nothing from last night was a fabrication of whatever toxins were running through their bloodstream. They still fit impossibly well and it still felt like heaven. But the fact that it  _ wasn’t  _ an effect of alcohol or weed made it even scarier. They were just friends. They loved Hoseok, it almost felt like  _ cheating  _ on Hoseok.

So both of them agreed they would ignore that night and how much their lips tingled, craving for another kiss.  


("Hey, Hobi," Yoongi had asked two days later. "Where did you sleep, if Kihyun and I were occupying your bed?"

"Oh, I passed out on the couch. Didn't even _dare_ going back to the bedroom, I was sure you two were having sex. Didn't you?"

"No, of course not."

"Damn it.")

* * *

“You look miserable” Was the first thing Yoongi said when he saw Kihyun, and it really felt like breathing fresh air after being deprived from it for so painstakingly long, or maybe feeling the sun’s warmth and the breeze’s cold after months of being locked away from the outside world. It was Yoongi, 100% pure Min Yoongi cockiness.

One of his friends was still real, solid under his fingers, and  _ alive _ .

“I guess it takes one to recognize it.” He sat down, but his smile was brighter than the cafe’s lights at that time, and it was almost the hour for changing shifts, and the cafe would actually function as a pub until 2 am. Smart business, he thought. “I’m happy to see you.”

And Yoongi also smiled with relief.

“ _ I _ am happy to see you. Thought you’d tell me to go to shit.”

“It’s implicit in everything I say.” He raised his hand, resting it palm up against the table, for Yoongi to take, to fill his own emptiness with, and Kihyun’s, as well. “I missed you. It feels lonely there, you know it.”

And he knew it, because  _ there _ could be any of their houses that never felt like homes.

“Did he miss you?”

“He told me I came back  _ early _ . Couldn’t miss me enough.” Both of them laughed. “What did you eat these last days? Don’t disappoint me.”

“Oh, I better not even begin.” Weaker smiles, but still there. “It’s been so… Empty. Sometimes I wonder if I could have done anything to change what happened or how it feels, then I know I could not and it feels so hollow. I haven’t even eaten because I don’t feel hungry.”

“I’ve been feeling that… the whole asking questions…” Kihyun sighs. Their hands still fit perfectly. Their sadness matched just like that. “Feeling void. Guess it’s part of the process.”

“Wish it wasn’t. If it gets any worse, I don’t know what I…” What he would do.

And Kihyun is just as afraid, because he could never bear watching his friend wilt and die while fully living, right in front of his eyes; Kihyun wasn’t Hoseok, and while Hobi had managed to blow new life into Yoongi every time he wanted to isolate himself and fade away, him, Yoo Kihyun, might not be as strong.

“That…” He whispered, a low start on something he had to say, to bring back, as much as Yoongi hated him for it. “That is why I think you shouldn’t get rid of your mark.”

The shift of disappointment in his expression was clear.

“That again?”

“I have to, I can’t let you do it” He defended himself quickly, Yoongi sighing in annoyance, “Yoongi, you’ve been wanting this too much for too long to actually feel okay after getting rid of your mark.”

“What does it even have to do with Hobi?”

“It has to do that you lost him and you feel empty, and if you get rid of your mark you will be losing your soulmate forever, and it will be so much worse.” Kihyun sighed, voice and words harsh. “If you do it, okay, but I won’t stand by it. I’ll be there for you through everything, even if you regret it, but I’ll never agree with it.”

Yoongi’s eyes shone with pain, somehow as if all his tears were contained within his soul.

“That is why I want to cover it. I told you, he wasn’t even the real deal and yet I…” His hand rummaged through his hair, messing, untangling, hurting. “I’d rather lose never having met the person at all than to love them even more than I loved Hobi and then lose them like… Like that.” His deft, long fingers tightened and shook against Kihyun’s.

And he could never  _ tell  _ Yoongi to follow his words, so he gave up. The strength Hoseok had, they lacked at that moment. Using every ounce of power to stand up and not crumble under the pain of losing someone.

“Ok. Do whatever.” Yoongi seemed confused. “I’m not your dad to tell you what to do or not, neither I am Hoseok. So…” He waved for the waiter to get them something.

“Would you go there with me?”

“No.” The answer came in a beat. “I won’t stand watching you do it.”

Yoongi nodded; that was comprehensible, and he couldn’t ask that of Kihyun. So they drank some, talked for a bit, and Yoongi left, alcohol buzzing on his ears and mind focused on the nearest tattoo parlor he found on Google.

(“Are you already doing it?”

“I felt brave.”

“Bravado in excess is just stupidity, but go off. Show me when it’s done.”)

Yoongi got there and told what he wanted; the tattoo artist nodded, saying he had done some coverings before. He asked what Yoongi had in mind, and he just said to fuck him up. The man mentioned those words made him think of scribbles, and Yoongi said that seemed a good idea. The tattoo artist laughed, getting some paper.

“Can I see it?” And Yoongi never thought he’d be showing the mark to someone who he didn’t believe to be his soulmate, much less someone with the intention of covering it. Yet he still did it, ripping the bandages with the man’s help, revealing a mark that he had etched on his mind from all the daydreaming and admiration, a mark he once loved.

The artist placed pen and paper over the mark to know how close the lines had to be, and how big the tattoo would be; Yoongi waited as he tidied it up and asked for his opinion.

“Just one last thing,” He said, black hair falling over his eyes and an arrow tattooed on his right temple, pointing towards his eye. “I’ve done six coverings. Five of them passed out of pain during the procedure, and they weren’t even complex tattoos or complete coverage. This will hurt  _ a lot _ . Don’t you wanna, like, drink some before?”

“I’m already tipsy,” Yoongi answered, and the artist denied.

“I mean, shitfaced. The less you feel the better.” That made him pause. Was it that painful?

_Did it matter?_ It was better than the familiar hollow waiting for him since Hoseok left and so did Kihyun. Waiting at home, waiting inside himself. Waiting to make him feel alone and undeserving, and Yoongi had no strength to fight it, lest he feel something.

“Fuck it, I can take it.” He said, balling the shirt in his fists. The man shrugged and motioned for him to follow.


	4. depression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe ur bitch is excited for this chapter

It felt too familiar, to be reading a book and then hear a bip.

_ i wanted to be fucked up so he did it _

A picture attached, Yoongi laying down and his back visible, focus on the place where his mark once was — naked for the first time of bandages and clothes, but covered in ink, lines overlapping and crisscrossing until whatever was underneath was invisible. It felt painful, hurt, dark. Seemed right, considering what it meant and on whose skin it was.

_ not like you needed the tattoo _

_ now you’re a full-on edgy millenial _

That felt so wrong. Kihyun could manage to get his mind busy for most of the way home, but once he felt home the knowledge of where Yoongi was and what he was doing must have triggered something psychological, because he felt a great deal of discomfort on his own mark, skin pulling taut and painful, drying out and actually making him somewhat desperate. Nothing ever felt like that.

Kihyun wasn’t the kind to get himself all caught up on soulmates. He just acknowledged the day would come, and until then, he would love and hurt and cry and fuck as if there was no special one. He never wanted to know how it felt, to believe one was your soulmate and then have your heart broken over it. But he never rejected his soulmate; Kihyun was open to all people, all experiences. He just wasn’t bend on finding them yet.

(Unlike Yoongi.)

Still, the feeling that there was something  _ wrong  _ with his mark made him disturbed, and even more disturbed when he figured that it could be only him sympathizing with Yoongi — but how strong could that be? Sympathy? It didn’t really make sense, and it lasted for some time, but he ignored it as well as he could, afraid of looking and seeing… What? His skin pulling by its own volition? Melting? He didn’t know.

Now, the vision of Yoongi’s tattoo disturbed him even more, made him sick. It felt wrong, and Kihyun wished he could tear the ink out of him. He rubbed his own mark unconsciously, protective.

_ fuck off you just wish you saw my mark _

_ now it’s only a memory _

Kihyun pursed his mouth. Yoongi was not wrong, he did want to see his mark more than once. But, for as long as they had been friends, Yoongi hid it. He was never one for coincidences; believing his heart would know who it was, the mark only a confirmation of what he already knew.

The only person who had seen the mark was Hoseok, and it broke Yoongi’s heart.

_ are you regretting yet _

He closed his book, head hurting, heart hurting, spirit anguished. Obviously he would not read anything more for the night.

_ nah i’m fine _

_ let’s bet you will be wrong _

_ 20 bucks _

Kihyun typed a quick answer, dropping his phone on the floor, mind absent as he started to undress for a shower.

_ no, i don’t wanna make a profit on your pain _

Yoongi’s next message would not be answered as Kihyun's shirt fell away and he decided to muster up the courage of looking at his mark on the mirror.

Where once soft lines twirled into two small spirals that connected and resembled the symbol of infinity, a bunch of crisscrossing, overlapping lines hid it like it was some sort of mistake. As if it was hideous.

Kihyun felt like the whole world escaped from under his feet as things fell apart only to find its right place, his own heart breaking and his soulmate being not only a friend who never saw him as such, but also the friend who competed with him for someone else’s love.

* * *

That night.

It was Hoseok’s birthday, and they went out, all together as usual. They drank and laughed and bought noodles and lit up candles by the side, laughing at how idiot birthday noodles were as a replacement for cake. Hoseok took the first bite, then offered some to Yoongi, and then some to Kihyun. Then they went to a noraebang, and yelled the songs and danced a bit, laughing at Hobi’s antics and how, even when mocking, he danced like a god. He was enchanting in every possible way. He glowed under the noraebang lights. His laughter made the world right. 

Yoongi had made his mind: they would make out, he would show Hobi his mark and he would know they were soulmates, they would have sex and that would be his present for him. He hoped Hobi would be happy to find out he was his soulmate. He hoped Hobi knew it as well, and that he wouldn’t be disappointed.

So Kihyun went out to get more drinks, and Yoongi breathed in, looking at Hoseok relaxed against the couch.

And, sitting by his side, he threw one leg over Hoseok's lap and sat down, fingers woven into his hair, lips getting closer to his. Shock took him, but he soon regained control.

“Yoongi?”

“Happy birthday,” he whispered, caressing the sides of his face, his hair. “Let me be your present later?”

“What do you mean?” And, even with suspicion on his voice, his hands held Yoongi’s waist, a strong hold that made the older one shiver.

“Let’s go home together. I’ll have something for you” and he kissed Hobi, softly, just a romantic peck on the lips, but it was enough for now, they would have more later.

“Hey, I want some too.” It was Kihyun, a smile on his lips and the bottles held firmly on his fingers. The sight of Yoongi on Hoseok’s lap burned at his insides, jealousy overtaking, and he just knew he needed some of that, of him, of Jung Hoseok. “Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all!” Hoseok said, all too enthusiastically for Yoongi, who wanted more alone time with his soulmate. However, he left Hobi’s lap as he stood up and pulled Kihyun by the waist after taking away the soju bottles, angling his head and meeting his lips with his own.

Their lips moved softly against each other, and Kihyun felt like melting into Hoseok’s arms, but he left him when it felt too soon, going back to the catalogue to choose songs.

Kihyun’s eyes met Yoongi’s. Burning hot, envy, jealousy. Almost possessiveness.  _ Hobi is mine _ . But, where Kihyun’s mouth was pursed, Yoongi had a smile.

That night, Hoseok would be his.

* * *

Kihyun went home with his insides burning, but he stuck to what he said. If Hoseok’s choice was Yoongi, he had to accept it. Yet his mind couldn’t stop thinking, running, burning. Thinking of them.

Of Yoongi’s hips riding on top of Hoseok’s. His lips marking his neck, sucking. Mouth going lower, ripping moans that Hobi tried to suppress. Hands touching beyond intimacy. Riding harder, Hoseok’s hand holding Yoongi’s waist and…

Who was he really jealous of? His own throat shut close as he thought of Yoongi moaning, shaking, eyes closed. Hoseok had skilled lips, he had felt it. He'd caress Yoongi's pulse with his mouth and tear him undone as he pushed further.  


Who was he jealous of?

Kihyun wished he had no doubts.

* * *

Hoseok’s lips were so close to Heaven.

The way his tongue moved against his inside his mouth made Yoongi dizzy and weak, smiling through their kiss. He was imposing, hands strong against his frame and taking off Yoongi’s jacket in a frenzy and lips pressing harder, moving faster, demanding more of him.

Maybe way too demanding.

Way too long hands.

Way too quick lips. 

Yoongi wanted to go a bit slower, but maybe that was Hobi, Hobi’s soul wishing to finally bond with his, for them to finally be together, and he also craved for that moment, that meeting, so he understood. They moved towards the bed, still not undressing, focusing on each other’s lips, tongues, mouths, curves and frames, until they fell on the bed.

Yoongi was sitting on top of him, finally breaking their kiss to breathe and admire Hoseok.

He was beautiful, he shone even under the dim light that the window spilled. He smiled and his hair was messed up and his eyes sparkled with mischievousness. 

“Hobi,” He whispered, heart pounding, pushing blood forward inside his body, everything throbbing in anticipation. It was right, that was the moment, they were soulmates and their souls would finally be together after so long.

“Yeah, hyung?” He sounded so soft and mellow, and so dirty.

Yoongi’s voice caught up in his throat, stiffing up. He bit his lips, and there was a bit of fear, hesitation, but it would be better to show it once and for all — in the end, there was no mistake. There could be no mistake, he was sure, his soul knew.  


So he sat on the bed, back turned to Hoseok, and took off his shirt, ripping it away from him. Once the fabric fell to the ground, his fingers looked for the bandage, pulling it out and revealing his mark.

He was sure. He was nervous.

“We are soulmates, aren’t we?” Hoseok’s fingers touched the mark, a prickling sensation wherever his skin met the black lines. The few times people had touched it there, that prickling would surge. Wasn't really pleasing. A fingertip followed the spirals, from the center of one to the center of another.

“No, we are not.”

Yoongi felt lost and cold.

He felt lost with those words, not quite comprehending their meaning.

He felt cold when he did.

His insides froze when he turned and saw Hoseok take off his shirt, throwing it away with such unfair grace, and turn his back for him to see the lineout of a delicate sun.

“Yoongi hyung, for how long did you think we were soulmates?”  He couldn’t find his voice. He couldn’t find himself. How could it be? How could it  _ not  _ be him?

Spirals and suns were not the same, and Yoongi felt like a child who just lost their parents.

“I’m sorry,” Hobi said, even when he didn’t have to apologize at all, and turned again, this time to face a tearful Yoongi, lips trembling with pain. “Hyung, you look for it too much. Let it come to you naturally or this expectation will hurt you like this again,” he had said, caressing Yoongi’s face as the first tears fell. “Come on, hyung, I hate to see you cry. Just because we are not soulmates, doesn’t mean we can’t have sex. Let me make it up to you.”

And, just because it hurt so much, just because he didn’t feel like waiting for his soulmate at that moment, because he was so hurt and he hated everything so much, he let himself be consumed by the sun, taken over, burnt by the touches he once craved and now resented, killed in that fire.

Hoseok liked to choke, he found out, and Yoongi could dwell in the numbness just fine in that moment, welcomed it like a balm for his pain. He had anger within his heart and pain in his fingertips; every time Hoseok touched his soulmate mark, kissed it, even bit it, the prickling came, shooting through his spine and it pushed forward a feeling of wrongness, of disturbance, that Yoongi could not get rid of even when Hoseok pushed into him, slick and easy, and he was taken with strength and certainty in every stroke, hips pushing and the bed hitting the wall, wrists held above his head,  _ just how Hoseok liked it _ , nothing but their bodies, no souls to bond anymore, Yoongi's mind absent as he just let it be felt, the void pleasure, until it tipped him over and he came.  


“I’m sorry for ruining your birthday.”

“You didn’t. Thank you for my present.” Hoseok's apology was silent, just an arm looping around Yoongi's waist, but they both knew he was sorry.  


_ I'm sorry for not being your soulmate. _

_ You don't have to be _ , would have been Yoongi's answer. That pain was nothing but his, his cause and consequense.  


* * *

The days went by, and neither Hoseok or Kihyun heard from Yoongi after that night.

As soon as the sun came, Yoongi left, as awake as he was after the sex. No goodbye left, no traces of him besides the marks on Hoseok’s skin and the mess on his bed and the memories on his mind. He tried texting him, but nothing came. No answer to be had.

One day later, he tried Kihyun.

_ hey ki hyung _

_ did u hear from yoon hyung _

Kihyun didn’t expect them to take so long to send him something, so he assumed the worst: Yoongi was right, they were soulmates and spent the entire day fucking themselves to exhaustion. How good that must’ve felt.  But the texts he got were not the ones expected. And for Hoseok to actually remember honorifics and use it along their nicknames? (Ki hyung? Yoon hyung?) That was the most off he had even been; it had to be serious.  


_ i didn't _

_ was he not with you? _

What happened?, was his first thought, but for Hoseok to be as in the dark as Kihyun, there was only one explanation that he could think of, boiling up and melting inside his brain, afraid for the romantic, full of expectations, daydreaming Yoongi.

_ we were together that night _

_ for my bday _

_ but he vanished after that _

He was probably at home, crying himself to sleep, barely eating, hurting through the heartbreak of a mistaken soulmate.

_ did he show you his mark expecting to match yours? _

The answer was exactly what Kihyun waited for.

_ yea _

_ do u think he’s avoiding me :c _

_ he won’t avoid u pls make contact _

_ make sure he’s alive _

Kihyun breathed in, texting just a quick _ok_ to Hoseok, heart constricted within his chest, ribs closing in to steal his oxygen. To think of Yoongi in that miserable state was like tearing his own heart out, and he decided to do as told, even if he was sure to be ignored.

It was better to stay away for now, both Hoseok and Kihyun, but they needed to reassure him they were there, and he should not suffer alone.

_ hey _

_ hoseok texted me about you, he’s worried _

_ i am worried. _

_ i know what happened and i am sorry _

_ but please you don’t have to let yourself die slowly and all alone because of it _

_ your soulmate will come and they’ll be so lucky it’s you _

_ so please, if you need us, we’ll be there for you _

_ but don’t let this kill you _

It took him a long time to answer, and it was actually surprising that he did, bipping when the night had already fallen and Kihyun was making himself dinner while his father was out at the church.

_ will you try it out with him now? _

_ since it’s not me you still have a shot _

_ both of you don’t really care about the soulmate thing _

He could hear Yoongi’s voice, weary and tired and sad, and it broke him. It broke Kihyun into sharp, painful shards.

_ i could never. not at the cost of your pain _

_ you matter more to me now _

_ i know hoseok is fine but i don’t know about you _

_ and i need you to be fine too _

Kihyun was not sure if he meant that he needed Yoongi to heal, or if he needed Yoongi to be fine in order to be fine himself.

_ thank you _

_ i’ll be fine _

_ i love you too you know _

_ but please i need to be alone for some time _

He nodded, and Yoongi couldn’t see. He missed him, but that was a sacrifice worth making, missing him.

_ don’t worry we’ll give you space _

_ i love you too _

And they never had the courage to clarify what kind of love was that, and they didn’t need to and didn’t want too; what it mattered was that the feeling was real and sturdy amongst oceans of pain.

*

Now, Kihyun was the one gone without a trace.

Afraid of facing Yoongi, of telling him what happened, what he found out. That his delicate soulmate mark had shifted and changed, skin crawling as it refused to let its match be hidden and deformed — changing to match it as well.

But so many things made sense and everything was so much clear. How their hands always fit. How their bodies reacted so well to each other. How it felt so good and so hot, the right way of feeling hot, when they made out. The way they easily worked together, how conversations moved fluidly and they could lose themselves together for hours. How there was always a sliver of doubt when the love for Hoseok surged — and how that sliver of doubt managed to cast a shadow into his jealousy whenever him and Yoongi were together. Who was that jealousy for?

Now he knew. It was his soul calling to its mate in the arms of someone else, someone whose matching sun was not  _Yoongi_ _ ,  _ was none of them, because they belonged to each other, Yoongi and Kihyun, spiraling together into infinities of idiotic ignorance as they were  _ right there  _ and yet so far away, inches close but reaching for the star miles above. 

He was afraid of facing Yoongi because he never  _ once  _ made a single mention of  _ what if we are soulmates _ . That idea had never crossed his mind, which meant he didn’t think of Kihyun like that. They were friends and that was it, and to Yoongi, they could never be more.

And that hurt. That made him hollow. That made him sad and made him wish there would be no sun to rise the next day, because the outside world felt so wrong when it was lively against his dead soul.

He had lost Hoseok, someone he did love, no one could deny that. He loved him deeply, like not many other men. And that pain took away so much, but Kihyun was managing. Trying his best. Believing one step every day would carry him to a place of healing, and he would be whole again.

But to know who was his soulmate, to know he would’ve been rejected and  _ had been _ — the scribbling was a clear message of refusal —, that was a blow stronger than his soul could take, and not even Kihyun, Kihyun who just waited and never seeked it out, Kihyun who tried to be indifferent, could withstand it.  


He wished he could, though.

He wished to raise tall against his pain, and go on. It was Yoongi’s loss, if he never wanted to move forward.

He wished it had never pushed him far beyond his breaking point.

(They could have been so happy.)

Even his father tried to reach out, ask what happened, but their distance and strangeness definitely made a number on their relationship. Once Kihyun explained what happened, with short and dry words, he did not know what to answer. He only said he’d make Kihyun’s favorite for dinner and, if he wished, he could eat it in the bedroom.

And that he wanted his son to be better soon.

Until one week later, when his cellphone beeped once, twice, thrice,  _ thirteen times _ and Kihyun did not make a move to catch it because it was not Hobi, there was only one person who it could be, and Kihyun did not want to see what he said, what the man he lost without truly ever having said.

But curiosity and heartache moved his hand, making Kihyun hate himself.

_ kihyun please _

_ these last days have been so hard _

_ you were right. i lost it on the third day _

_ i miss my soulmate so much too much and i don’t even know who it was _

_ i passed out of pain during the process but it was not just physical. my heart _

_ that shit. hurted _

_ it was so painful and it made me so hollow i’ve been feeding off dust like i wish i was joking but those crackers were dusty bitches _

_ but fourth day until now? fuck my soulmate. i miss you. i wanna know where you at. i wanna know how you are and i wanna know if you’re miserable because you would never go mia for so long. and that was why i called the crackers dusty bitches i wanna imagine you laughed at my poor humor _

_ i have thought of everything, that you found your french soulmate and left, that your father killed you or broke your phone, that you got tired of my dramatic and impulsive ass even tho my ass is hella cute _

_ and no option does not hurt. even if you’re happy at france. i wanted you to be happy with me. or miserable with me and that is awful i know but what i mean is that i wished to be there for you. to help you heal because you helped me. _

_ i am kinda afraid of saying it after hobi  
_

_ but this feels an awful lot like love _

_ so please i am BEgginG. please come back. i love you i do, too much to lose you now. _

By the last message, Kihyun was outright crying, tears slipping from his heart to his eyes and wetting his face and pillow as he read them and cried because of how much he missed him, how much he missed Yoongi,  _ his  _ Yoongi.

He couldn’t answer, but that missing space under his heart was so painful he was torn. Until a new message came.

_ if you do nOT answer in like 13 hours i will be obligated to drop by your house and find out if your dad killed you or if you left to france with a cute french boy _

He smiled. The way that, even when heartbroken himself, Yoongi still managed to make him smile was such a precious thing between them. It gave him a fresher breath of life, something lighter for his soul.

And, against every single fear of rejection, every single fiber of his being, Kihyun typed out an answer.

_ something happened to me. i was afraid of telling you _

_ but meet me in the train station we’re going somewhere _

His hands were shaking, Kihyun could barely manage to take his clothes off the hangers as he changed from old, dirty t-shirts he spent days with even after showers. A beep, and he almost tripped on his own pants as he hurried to read the new message.

_ KIHYUN YOU’RE ALIVE YOUR DAD DID NOT MURDER YOU _

_ and you’re telling me to meet you at the train station which means you did not find a french soulmate!!!!! _

Since  _ when  _ was he that cute? The smile that curved his lips was inevitable.

_ why do you even wanna meet at a train station… what happened _

_ did YOU murder your dad? _

He finished discarding his dirty clothing before answering, still shaking, still afraid, but more alive than he ever felt in the last week.

_ no?  
_

_ just trust me? _

He could not send whatever else he texted.  _ Don’t leave me  _ or  _ I hope it won’t disappoint you _ , he could not muster the strength to send those, afraid of making everything worse.

The affirmative came quick.

_ i would trust you blindly _

And Kihyun went to the bathroom to wash away a week of sadness and tears.  



	5. acceptance.

Hoseok met his soulmate only three weeks before his death.

Yoongi came back slowly, painfully, tentative in his moves and sad hesitation in his voice, even if they reassured him every single second, with voice tones and touches and smiles, that he was as welcome as ever before.

Maybe it was him, trying to fit his new pieces with that Hoseok that was  _ not  _ the soulmate he had expected. Maybe it was him, afraid that they had grown too much to fill up that space where he once was. Maybe he  _ had _ grown or shrunk too much to fit there anymore.

Even when they found a new rhythm, it was not the same as before.

And then, one day, Hoseok arrived at their table, in their place, shining brighter than anything they had ever seen, even Hoseok himself. His smile was so huge it was painful to him, and yet he could not stop.

“I found my soulmate!” Those were  _ literally  _ his first words said to them, before he even sat down.

“Seriously?” Kihyun said, and for the first time since he came back, Yoongi looked genuine. Genuinely interested, genuinely happy, genuinely himself. “Who is he? How did you two meet?”

“Ok, so” He sat down excitedly, not taking one breath, spilling words with tones of so much happiness that both Kihyun and Yoongi were smiling as well, hearing of how they met at a club and immediately clicked and went out together and he was wearing a jacket with a see-through shirt and when he took it off Hoseok saw the sun mark, and then the guy saw his as well, and his name was Lee Minhyuk, and he was so beautiful and cute and so funny and loud, they were just perfect for each other, and as soon as they saw the marks they went home, kissed and fucked like there was no tomorrow, and the next day they went to Busan to take pictures and—

“So that’s why you cancelled our date here?” Yoongi accused, but there was no pain in his voice; he actually sounded playful and happy. “I can’t believe I was dropped for some dick.”

“Some dick  _ and  _ some ass,” Hoseok corrected, and Kihyun laughed at Yoongi’s face. “The finest, by the way. Here are the photos we took, oh my  _ lord _ I have never seen a man this beautiful—”

And he was really handsome. Actually, he was a freaking  _ model _ , doing some actual model gigs, and Hoseok decided right then and there he’d become a photographer to take pictures of his own personal god, and they laughed.

“I’m happy for you, Hobi.” It was Yoongi, and Kihyun nodded, and it was real, his happiness. Their happiness, shared. “I really am.”

Hoseok’s smile softened with relief.

“Thank you. I’m happy you’re back.” And then he went back to his hyper self, saying how they should all meet so they could hang out together and they could meet his “personal sun” (actual quote) and how he’d love for his best friends to meet him, and they did meet, having an incredible evening, one of the best of their lives, and they said they should do it again soon, and—

And three weeks later Hoseok was killed in a car crash, and whatever acceptance Yoongi had managed to muster after Minhyuk died with him.

* * *

Kihyun was effectively shaking in his boots when Yoongi arrived, along with the sunset.

Usually people in love used to see their loved one as the most beautiful person in the world. Kihyun was pretty sure soulmates suffered from the same effect, because he was astounded by how beautiful Yoongi was when nothing about him had changed. He was very much the same, and Kihyun still couldn’t recall seeing another man so beautiful. Not even Hoseok’s model boyfriend was as pretty. Not even Yoongi himself.

And the way he smiled when seeing Kihyun made his heart thump and stomp and beat as if he got defibrillated.

“Oh, my God, it is you” He could barely hold himself, throwing his body against Kihyun’s, hugging him so tight, as if he’d run away if he loosened his grip, and again his arms looped perfectly around Kihyun’s frame in such a comforting way. His breath moved his hair and Kihyun held him close, hearts meeting and talking through their frantic beatings. “I missed you so much, I was so empty thinking I had lost you, and—”

“No.” Kihyun cut him short, pulling away just a bit to look at his soulmate’s unknowing eyes. “You can never lose me.”

His smile made the sun dark and they hugged again for a bit longer before letting each other go.

“So, why is it that we have to meet here again?” Kihyun smiled and pulled Yoongi, and Yoongi would follow him everywhere because he had missed Kihyun so, he loved him so, and how had he never noticed how important Kihyun was?

“We’re going to the nearest beach.”

“Isn’t it too cold for beaches?” Kihyun’s smile faltered, but stood firm on his face.

“It kind of suits us right now, doesn’t it?” He cannot look back, cannot see Yoongi’s sad eyes. “But also I wanna see the sea, and you’re coming with me, and I didn’t want this to happen at any of our houses because…”

Truth time.

“Because?” He sighed.

“Because I don’t know how you’ll react, and if you do so badly, I want us to leave these memories at a place we won’t have to come back to.”

Kihyun was a treasure and a mystery, always hiding feelings and secrets deeper than he first allowed people to see and reach. He never knew why.

And Yoongi loved it.

* * *

They went to Incheon by train.

Soft chatter surrounded them, and they tried to make some, ask how they felt, but the answers were short and they soon found they didn’t feel like talking. The absence of each other made Hoseok’s own absence duller and yet deeper, everything going gray and blurred for them to make sense of their feelings and grief. Truth is they felt miserable, and they knew it, but it was so much worse without each other that they could not process their friend’s loss any longer and stagnated on time, waiting for someone unknowingly dear.

And, now that they had each other, and knew that there was nothing going on in their lives, they only felt like holding each other and feeling the warm presence of their friend. The only other words exchanged were Yoongi trying to pry the truth out of Kihyun, when he started getting nervous and afraid again, discreetly shaking and sweating.

“Come on, one hint.”

“No!”

“Please? Why do you even hate me, I have never done anything to you.”

“Shut up and wait, Yoongi, Jesus.”

When they arrived, they got lost. Laughing with each other and ordering a cab to drop them at the nearest beach, their hands never leaving each other, as they had found the right place, just like Kihyun and Yoongi, and he couldn’t take his eyes off him, off Yoongi, off the man that was so obviously his soulmate and he never realized it somehow.

It was really cold, and they pulled their jackets closer to their bodies and then they pulled each other closer too, one arm locking with the other, the golden hour already dying away and leaving colder blues in its wake. The sand was soft under their feet and they walked, walked until they didn’t feel like it anymore, and they sat close to each other.

“Damn, it’s cold.”

“Someone warned you.” A jab against his ribs and Yoongi laughed. “Did you tell your dad?”

“No, he wasn’t home. But he was worried about my state this last week.”

“Oh? What state? Miserably missing your best friend?” Kihyun laughed under his breath, out of some humor and also out of sadness, because yes, it was because he missed his best friend, and because he was afraid of missing him forever.

“You could say so.” Yoongi’s brow furrowed. “But clarify me something. Why did you think I’d found myself a french soulmate?” And then his confusion melted away into laughter.

“I don’t know, it just suits you.”

And it’s weird and curious, how Yoongi did guess that Kihyun had found his soulmate.

“How’s the tattoo going?” Yoongi’s hand raised to his spine, caressing the place once abused by pain.

“I hate it now and I owe you 20 bucks.” And they laughed a bit, until silence fell onto them and Kihyun’s insides were churning in fear and hope and fear and anticipation and fear and then some. But Yoongi was too anxious and curious for that, and once the silence grew heavy and pregnant with doubt, he broke it: “What is it, Ki, that is so important that we needed to come to another town, a town with beaches, for you to tell me?”

He swallowed the stones that tried to keep his secret. He couldn’t anymore, he had literally gone too far to back off now. So he opened his mouth and the world moved.

“Yoongi, your soulmate mark…” He forced air to enter his lungs, to keep him afloat. “It was two spirals, wasn’t it?”

He could feel Yoongi freeze.

“Kihyun…?”

“Two spirals connected like the symbol of infinity.” He swallowed the tears that choked his throat in the process of being born. “When you were getting your tattoo, my mark was… Feeling weird, taut over my spine. Then I looked.”

He took off his coat, hands shaking so much, eyes locked in the sea, drowning in its waves. His fingers held the collar of his shirt, so tight it hurt, the cold hurt, his heart hurt.

“My mark changed.”

And he pulled the collar down, cold kissing the blackened skin, eyes shutting tight with fear, some semblance of shuffling by his side but nothing, no sound came from Yoongi, Yoongi whose fingers touched his hand but not his mark, untrusting of what he saw.

It couldn’t be, and yet it was. Each line had a perfect match, and Kihyun perfectly described his old mark in a way that meant Kihyun had seen it, and yet it could have never been seen on his body. What meant  _ he  _ had the perfect match.

Yoongi’s world stopped in its heels as the realization fell on his shoulders.

Hoseok had never been his soulmate, however, he was the tool that destiny used to make him meet his true soulmate.

Yoo Kihyun, shivering in front of him because of the cold.

With no presence of mind or spirit, his first reaction was to grab Kihyun’s discarded coat and cover him before he froze to death, feeling how tense his body was, and the small jump he gave when he felt the movement. He knew nothing, only that he had to shield him — his friend, his soulmate, yet his mind couldn’t comprehend those words being together yet — from the piercing cold.

“It’s too cold,” was the only thing Yoongi said as he nestled the clothing piece on Kihyun’s frame.

And one arm of his decided to rest there as his mind processed everything.

That entire week, Yoongi’s mind revolved around regretting having lost his soulmate, as Kihyun warned, and missing him with such force it took away his breath. First, even if he knew his mark, he had no way of proving his symbol was a match to whoever else’s mark. And, since the tattoo wasn’t really a mark, there was no way he would find someone. His someone. And it hurt more than he initially expected.

And then there was missing Kihyun, and if regret from losing his soulmate was a level of pain, missing Kihyun was the very own definition of pain. It felt like he was dying everyday, but never actually becoming dead. Missing Kihyun made Yoongi crave for that death that never came, hope to die just to never miss him again. And now it made sense, just like it made sense for Kihyun when he found out, it made for Yoongi, everything clearer as the pieces fit perfectly just like them.

The universe brought him back, his soulmate and best friend, all at once, basically not having his bullshit of getting rid of his mark and making them match again — making them truly destined for each other.

As the lights in the sky died out, blues changing and darkening as the sun went away to shine for the other half of the world, Yoongi let himself think of every single time he should have realized, only to feel so guilty, so dumb, so blind.

“Did you ever…” His voice died out, his strength minimum. But Kihyun knew his doubt, just as he would grow to know everything else when it came to Yoongi, because they were a match in the universe’s plan.

“Not even once. At least not that I recall.”

And it was fitting that it only felt truly real at night, because the sun shouldn’t bear witness of their realization, or the way that everything shifted within them. The sun wasn't there anymore, and it had to part for them to completely understand.  


Yoongi knew he could not be whole, could not be okay without Kihyun, and now he knew exactly why.

“You’re my soulmate,” Yoongi whispered, and it felt so right, and his only reaction was to tangle his fingers in Kihyun’s hair and pull him for a kiss, a kiss that soothed away every ounce of pain, every tear, every weakness, and it felt like they could finally heal, because their wounds were taken care of.

Now he knew how Hoseok felt when he met Minhyuk.

Now he knew why kissing Kihyun felt so good, even better than an entire night of sex with Hoseok, and it was no drug.

Where Hoseok only made him inch closer to Heaven, Kihyun was Heaven himself.

*

It was not a rule that soulmates had to have sex after their discovery, but the euphoria and happiness that overtook the couples usually led to the consummation of the bond shortly after.

Kihyun and Yoongi just got themselves a little room inside a small hotel in Incheon, unable to wait the trip back to Seoul to touch and undress and dive in each other. They could barely keep their hands away at the beach; their lips were already inseparable, and the small trip inside the cab to the hotel felt impossible.

Coats to the floor, Kihyun giggled as Yoongi’s hands fumbled through his clothes, trying to touch him, to feel him as much and as fast as possible.

“Yoongi, I’m not going to disappear again,” He whispered against loving lips, and trembled again when he caressed his waist under the shirt, grabbing it at once and pulling it away from Kihyun.

“I know, baby, but you just feel so good…” His mouth slipped away into Kihyun’s cheek and jaw and neck and his body shook again on Yoongi’s arms. “So good to me, baby.”

“Can’t believe my soulmate uses pet names. I feel adored.” He was lowered into the bed, Yoongi on top, eyes sparkling, the light had not been turned on and so the bedroom was swimming in the dark with the exception of light coming from the streets, and it felt a bit familiar but this time everything was right, the person and even the place, clean of any other memories, a blank slate they could paint their night on. Kihyun whispered as he took Yoongi’s shirt away as well, “I told you, I told you your soulmate was lucky that their match was you, I’m so lucky, I am—”

Yoongi kissed him before more tears came, skin touching skin and their bodies set ablaze, but never had the idea of catching fire been so perfect than in each other’s arms. Their tongues moved so fluidly and in sync, even their makeout session at Hoseok’s bed hadn’t felt that good, maybe because their conscious mind was severely impaired by drug use. They laid down, limbs tangling, closing around bodies, and Kihyun traced his fingers all the way up until he scratched Yoongi’s tattoo/mark with light nails and—

He had to brace himself on top of Kihyun, eyes falling shut and body shuddering, moving forward — their hips grinding with the movement — and a breathless moan escaping his lips as Yoongi tried to recover.

“Yoongi?”

“Holy shit.” He was panting, and Kihyun was been a little frozen by his reaction, noticing Yoongi was struggling a bit to not fall on top of him, legs weak and shaking. “It… It kind of felt like an orgasm.”

Kihyun’s expression was comic, the whole situation was comic, and he didn’t know how to react.

“Please… Explain? You still feel pretty hard to me.” And, oh, the mischievousness on Yoongi’s eyes, he should have seen it coming.

Should have known he’d grab Kihyun’s waist and make him turn around, laying him on his chest, should have known he would kiss around his mark and touch it so so lightly, making Kihyun experiment that sensation over and over again, caresses to his soul, warm pleasure waves shaking him to the core, nestling on his lower abdomen, making him moan and shake just like Yoongi had, edging him over and over again.  


But, as much pleasure as that touch brought, it was not enough, and they went on, less clothes until there were none, and they wished there was more composure, that they could put themselves back together to at least decide who would top, but there was no time for that as the only thing they could muster was to push against the other’s hips, now completely naked, touches against marks and the chantings made out of names, choked up nicknames and pet names. 

Kisses were frantic and amazing as their lips escaped from the other and yet easily found their way back, Yoongi’s hands guided Kihyun again in a faint remembrance of something done in someone else’s bed, under the blissful ignorance of who it was under his grip; Kihyun bit and sucked Yoongi’s earlobe and then his jawbone, a special place that made Kihyun’s desires burn up. A single hand slid between them, grabbing their erections, and something within them broke. 

A hand fisted on Kihyun’s hair and teeth sinking on Yoongi’s shoulder as they came over the other, pleasure bursting out of physical confines, minds melting away and the only thing left being hearts finally together, souls reunited and bodies ecstatic.

It took them some cleaning, shuffling and resting until they could think again.

“I hate you for ruining our marks,” Kihyun joked, breathless against Yoongi’s hair, and he laughed. “They were so cute and delicate and you had to throw this grunge bullshit over.”

“Suits me, though, doesn’t it?” He smiled, and could not avoid bringing Yoongi’s lips to his own, too breathless to make it deeper and longer, but still loving enough that even that soft brush was worth it.

“Who did you think of as your soulmate?” Kihyun asked, after their second orgasm, voice low and soft in the chill air as Yoongi’s hands caressed a scratched back.

“I mean, besides Hobi?” Kihyun pinched his thigh and he laughed. “I don’t know, random faces, random men and women. Usually men.”

“Was it ever me?” Yoongi’s smile was one-sided, crooked.

“To be very fair, twice. Twice I did wonder. Guess when.”

“After that night in Hoseok’s bedroom and  _ that other night _ ?” He nodded. “Oh. Justify your answer.”

“You know why, though.”

“But please explain, so I know how you thought of us back then.” A slap on his ass as he shifted to lay on top of Yoongi, and it was his turn to laugh as that hand didn’t leave the burning skin.

“I mean, after our night at his place because we had felt so good together, and… And after I got my heart broken, because you seeked out for me, you sent those messages and, I confess, I cried when I read them and it was you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, because when I saw your name I realized how much I had missed you. Just like now, with the tattoo thing and shit. After the third day I was missing you so, so much. Back then I also missed you like crazy, and I thought I didn’t miss Hobi because I was hurt and I wanted to avoid him, but no, it was because you were my soulmate and I was abstinent. Both times, being away from you for so long killed me slowly.”

Kihyun smiled, because he knew that pain well and, if it were for him, Yoongi would never have to experience it again.

“And why… I mean, after the night at Hobi’s. If we felt that good, why did you…”

“Why did I repress the idea that we were soulmates?” Yeah, it was exactly what Kihyun thought; just couldn’t put into words. “Because I was in love with the wrong person, I guess. I didn’t want to let him go.” One soft finger traced Kihyun’s lips. “Now I don’t wanna let the right person go.”

“Well, you’re fucked now, because I’ll be the annoying boyfriend that will never detach from you and then you’ll be praying for some space.” Giggles, and then they rolled on the bed, switching positions, one hand on Kihyun’s nape, pulling the hair there, scratching, threatening to slide down, over his mark.

“Oh? You’ll pray for me to leave you before our first year and you know it.”

“Try me, then.” And his fingers slid down, and Kihyun arched up, and lips met flesh where it was sensitive and Kihyun died a little death against the bedsheets once more, Yoongi’s name sounding like a prayer for a god, a god of his own that belonged to Kihyun as much as Kihyun did to him.

(He had wondered, when he thought Yoongi and Hoseok were soulmates, how would it feel to spend an entire day fucking out of bliss.

Now he got to know.)

*

To find their soulmate did not mean they were healed, only that there was someone to fall back on if they lost their strength.

So, once they were back to Seoul, both Kihyun and Yoongi grieved properly, both through their own processes, sometimes needing a bit of space and isolation, but as soon as it had been used, felt and dealt with, they went back to each other for comfort and support and congratulations. 

Yoongi accepted again that his best friend was not his soulmate, that he had found the right person and had been happy, even if for a short time; he accepted heartbreak and the way things tumbled after that, accepted that mistakes had been made and needed to be forgiven. Kihyun accepted lost chances and that it was never meant to be, anyway, and he should not beat himself over them; those were his choices, to wait for Hoseok and respect whatever he chose, and he stood by them to the end.

And, somewhere along the process, they acknowledged there was someone else’s pain, someone who deserved just as much support as they did, if not more. A person they had outright resented, once.

“Hey, baby” Were Yoongi’s first words after a soft kiss with Kihyun’s body hanging uncomfortably over the car door window. The things he did for love. “Where’s Minhyuk?”

“Do you even know him? He’s choosing between chocolate rolls and strawberry cream  _ something _ . Please give him an opinion.”

“Chocolate. Strawberry’s on the wrong side of too sweet.” Kihyun’s fist went up in the air as much as it could inside the car, apparently the debate being set. “How many sweets can you two possibly have gotten, though?”

“Wait until he comes.”

And so, five minutes later, he did, three bags filled to the brim on his arms and Kihyun bringing the soju. Yoongi’s jaw dropped.

“How much did it all cost?!”

“Hello to you too, stranger” Minhyuk answered in a cocky tone. “It costed me all I have and then some. We’ll get out of there in a sugar high.”

“Or diabetic, your choice.” Yoongi started the car. “Hoseok wasn’t even that fond of sweets.”

They went to a river bank, under a tree that casted a nice shadow down onto the grass and made a nice spot to lay down. The breeze was chill, but not so cold that it would stop them from meeting there. Something in the air gave away that rain was coming. Even then, the sun was shining softly, filtered through clouds, but there nonetheless.

It was something that made them think of Hoseok. The livelihood of everything, of people passing by, of the river in its course, of the trees and even the annoying little insects. The sunshine and smell of grass and the chilly breeze. That breath of life carrying energy and, deep beyond it, calmness. Peace.

Minhyuk was not, and they never intended him to be, a replacement of Hoseok. Jung Hoseok had been unique and intense in his own way, while Minhyuk was intense and unique in a totally different way, no matter how much their behaviors and mannerisms and personalities lined up sometimes. But where Hoseok was crass and sometimes even harsh, Minhyuk was classier, a total different type of sarcasm that hit them with just the same strength. He made himself their friend and a definite part of their inner circle in a different way, while also accentuating how Hoseok had marked them and made himself irreplaceable.

So it was the day before Hoseok’s death’s one year anniversary, and they decided to go out and have a little something that would give Minhyuk some strength for the next day, among a family that loved a Hoseok they faked in their minds, but never really the one he had been when living, and they would also be there, Kihyun and Yoongi, in order to support him and revisit their late friend. That evening would also be their own way of remembering, of paying respects, and living memories that he truly would’ve appreciated.

(His family should despise Minhyuk, and his mother probably did, but Minhyuk  _ was  _ his soulmate, whether they liked it or not, so it was almost an obligation for him to be there. And, since he had a fake pass with Hobi’s family, he could do whatever, so Kihyun and Yoongi would go with him, the two men who really loved him as he was.)

“Oh, the plastic white cups. No one will ever guess this is soju” Yoongi snickered nodding towards the characteristic bottles. “Totally family friendly.”

“Well, you do you if you wanna take the bottle” Minhyuk cut back. “I’m just taking my time, being drunk before 6 PM is self-murder and disrespectful.”

“Don’t you mean suicide?”

“Who cares, you’re dying all the same.” Kihyun took one little chocolate roll and his own cup, served by Minhyuk; he distributed the chocolate rolls and they raised their cups. “To Hobi.”

“To Hobi” they echoed, and drank, and ate.

And chatter was easy, banter coming and going naturally, throwing bits of rolls and wafers and caramels in between sips of soju and usual topics, how Minhyuk had a gig coming in two weeks and Kihyun’s college would still make him eat his own liver, how Yoongi was studying to try and enroll college again and how he’d feel so weird, being the oldest one in the class, then Minhyuk said he should take advantage of that and Kihyun slapped him, telling him not to encourage his soulmate into being evil, and then they went on about their most fitting chart alignments and how Yoongi was the One True Neutral of all, until he was too silent and Kihyun made him come back to Earth with a peck under his chin.

“What are you thinking about, sugar plump?” His face twisted in disgust.

“Jesus, why is it that every time you try calling me a pet name something awful like that comes out.” One way too long gulp of soju from his cup made it empty in a second. “It’s just. Minhyuk.”

“Yes, sugar plump?” He cackled in teasing, but it died as soon as it came out of his lips when he saw Yoongi’s face.

“How does it feel for you, to be without Hobi?”

That question was reasonably out of reach at all times, for both Kihyun and Yoongi, for obvious reasons: they were too afraid to ask and break Minhyuk, even if for a quick moment. But, looking at the man resting on his lap, his soft brown hair spilling delicately on his thighs and his own forehead, he had just realized he didn’t know where his heart would go if he were ever to lose Kihyun.

So he asked. Because obviously it was possible to live without a soulmate, but he wanted to know how much of a toll it took on him.

Minhyuk deflated as quick as they could possibly imagine. His hands became unquiet, fidgeting with his cup and the sweets at reach as he looked for words to express what happened in his heart.

“Well, first thing I keep on mind since he parted and the pain receded enough for me to live again is that I wasn’t  _ born  _ with him. Up until a year ago, I didn’t know him, I didn’t have him, and I was just fine. But it hurts too much, sometimes. Sometimes it feels useless to leave the bed. Sometimes I want to see him so bad, I need his touch, I need him there, and all I can do is wait until that need dies down. And I accept those days, those are natural because of who he was to me, they’ll not be as easy to live as the others, but I know I can manage. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk, I guess.” His attempt at easing the mood did not go well, and he just went for the bottle.

Kihyun slapped Yoongi softly on the face.

“What the fuck?” Kihyun whispered, knowing that Minhyuk would hear anyway.

“Hey, baby, not in public.” And  _ that  _ managed to get Minhyuk to smile. “It’s just that…” The tenderness in his eyes when he looked down explained everything, and that made Kihyun soften inside just a bit.

“Oh, God, you two are gross.” A chocolate roll hit him straight on the face. “Just be sure to look at both sides of the street, and,” Honesty in his voice was almost painful. “Enjoy everything you can. Those three weeks were the best of my entire life and nothing will ever top them. I do not regret one second I spent with him.”

(His mark suddenly felt tender, a matching sun interlocking with his own as a homage, now, and when he touched it, he knew his Hobi was there with him. That he might not be at reach, but he never left, and it was the secret reason Minhyuk never allowed himself more suffering than a few days in bed: everything he lived, Hoseok lived through him, through his lovely Minhyukie hyung.)

The rest of the evening went out softly, with laughter and caresses and jokes and packages emptying as they ate, bottles emptying as they drank, and when they left, even as the first raindrops started to fall, they carried light souls, Minhyuk singing and dancing with grace and beauty as his friends followed him, walking calmly, hands tangled where they belonged, wetness ignored as the three men got soaked and other people ran for shelter.

Hoseok was at peace, and so were they, true soulmates resting under each other’s hearts and the one left behind smiling softly as he had known true happiness and found, through his own soulmate, new friends and a place that truly welcomed him as he was, where he would never have to walk alone again.

  
  
  


(“Do you want me to remove the tattoo?”

Kihyun loved being touched there with fingers as delicate as breeze.

“No, I love it as it is. Proves that we’re meant for each other, and we can’t be put apart.”

Yoongi smiled in the dark.

“And it suits you.”)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this is it! thank u all for reading, it means the world to me; hope you enjoyed your ride!
> 
> complains must be directed @kygscrystal on tt


End file.
